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Heroes of the Mushroom Kingdom
Standing at the bow of the Doomship, Eelee peered out into the sky ahead. For once, everything seemed to be going perfectly for his team. It had been a full month since the Mushroom Kingdom had last been attacked, and everyone’s spirits were higher than they had ever been. The captain took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Relaxing was a relatively new concept to Eelee, but he was starting to get the hang of it. For the first time in years, he felt truly happy. At that moment, a cannonball rocketed through the front of the vessel and shot through Eelee’s skull, killing him instantly. Alarmed by the noise, Squirt rushed to his commander’s quarters. At the sight of Eelee’s corpse, he felt a rush of adrenaline. Once the initial moment of disbelief past, he let out a cry of joy. “At long last, the tyrant is dead!” Squirt shouted. “Now I can finally take my rightful place as leader of the team!” Damaged by the projectile, the room’s walls suddenly gave out. In moments, the ceiling had collapsed, crushing Squirt under its weight. Sitting in the hull of the Doomship was Crystal, who was wearing headphones and was completely oblivious to the severity of the situation as a result. In the nearby restroom was Rob, who was having explosive diarrhea that impaired his own hearing. Only when a cannonball took out the cabinet over his head did the boy realize something was amiss. “Crystal, we’re under attack!” Rob shouted, pants around his ankles. At the sight of his microscopic, wrinkly unmentionables, the girl let out a shriek of terror and leapt out a porthole to her inevitable demise. Rob waddled toward the Doomship’s bridge, but it detached entirely from the vessel before he even reached the entrance. Before he could be sucked out through the gaping hole at the plummeting ship’s front, Rob latched onto a nearby chair and held tight. As the last surviving member onboard, he knew that his own survival was up to him. He glanced frantically around the hull until his eyes settled on Eelee’s glider, which was hung on the wall. Clinging to anything that was fastened in place, Rob slowly made his way over. When he finally reached the glider, he slipped it on and allowed himself to be sucked out into the sky. He laughed exuberantly as he was lifted up into the air, but was quickly silenced after flying into and being impaled by the figurehead of the enemy craft. Miles below, the remaining half of the team was going about their business in their mountainside headquarters. In the common room, Bowser was attempting to enjoy the newest episode of Angela Anaconda. This was difficult for him with Ultra, his self-appointed bodyguard, staring at him from behind the king’s chair. “Ultra, can you give me a little space for once in my life?” Bowser groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose in aggravation. “No can do, sir,” Ultra replied. “It would be dangerous for me to take my eye off of you for even a second.” “Have you forgotten how long we’ve gone without so much as a single attack? There’s nothing to worry about, so I need you to leave me be!” Bowser stood up from the recliner, and walked out onto the balcony whilst muttering incoherently. Claws on the guardrail, he closed his eyes and took in the evening air. “This is what life is all about,” he sighed, blissful. The Doomship then crashed into the mountain, blowing up the side of the base and tearing Bowser to pieces. Out in the kitchen, Yoshi and Jamie were hard at work putting together the perfect sandwich. They were momentarily hindered by a tremble that they deemed less important than the task at hand. A minute later, Ultra burst in through the door, coated in a thick layer of ash. “Forget the sandwich, you two,” Ultra muttered, a single tear running down his cheek. “We have bigger fish to fry.” “I don’t like seafood,” Jamie replied, to which Yoshi nodded in agreement. “We’ll stick with the sandwich,” he stated. Ultra suddenly decided that life was no longer worth living, and walked back into the flaming remains of the common room to burn himself to death. The chefs shot each other looks of annoyance at their teammate’s rudeness before returning their attention to their masterpiece in the making. Ten minutes passed before the enemy ship arrived at what was left of the headquarters. Hovering before it, they unleashed another round of cannon fire. Most of the shots were shielded by the rubble, but one zipped clear through the base and took out the most important member of the team: the sandwich. Enraged by the loss of their closest friend, the two remaining heroes jumped to action. Swords in hand, they hopped the counter and weaved through the wreckage. Before long, they were staring down the vessel of mass destruction. With his mad ups, Yoshi jumped all the way from the ledge to the ship’s main deck. Jamie, knowing that his vertical game was too weak, walked back inside and proceeded to brew and drink a cup of fresh bleach, dying soon after. On the enemy ship, Yoshi quickly found himself surrounded by a band of vicious Purplos. Clutching the Starblade, he initiated the battle. He sliced through one slimy beast after another, not sparing a single creature onboard. When the last goon was slain, he walked up to the captain’s quarters and kicked the door open. Inside was the head Purplos, cowering in a puddle of grease. He placed the tip of the blade on the beast’s stomach. “Any last wo-” Yoshi began, but then died of a sudden heart attack. And so, the head Purplos rebuilt his army and took over the Mushroom Kingdom, dooming all the residents that survived the genocide to eternal servitude under his iron fist.